[Illustration:  Four tiny headstones]

XI

HOW TO SEE THE WOODFOLK

The days went merrily now, beginning each morning with a hunting of the Woodchuck.  The boys were on terms of friendship with the woods that contrasted strongly with the feelings of that first night.

This was the thought in Sam’s mind when he one day remarked, “Say, Yan, do you remember the night I slep’ with the axe an’ you with the hatchet?”

The Indians had learned to meet and conquer all the petty annoyances of camp life, and so forgot them.  Their daily routine was simplified.  Their acquaintance with woodfolk and wood-ways had grown so fast that now they were truly at home.  The ringing “Kow—­Kow—­Kow” in the tree-tops was no longer a mere wandering voice, but the summer song of the Black-billed Cuckoo.  The loud, rattling, birdy whistle in the low trees during dull weather Yan had traced to the Tree-frog.

The long-drawn “Pee—­re-e-e-e" of hot afternoons was the call of the Wood-peewee, and a vast number of mysterious squeaks and warbles had been traced home to the ever-bright and mischievous Blue Jay.

The nesting season was now over, as well as the song season; the birds, therefore, were less to be seen, but the drying of the streams had concentrated much life in the swimming-pond.  The fence had been arranged so that the cattle could reach one end of it to drink, but the lower parts were safe from their clumsy feet, and wild life of many kinds were there in abundance.

The Muskrats were to be seen every evening in the calm pool, and fish in great numbers were in the deeper parts.  Though they were small, the boys found them so numerous and so ready to bite that fishing was great sport, and more than one good meal they had from that pond.  There were things of interest discovered daily.  In a neighbour’s field Sam had found another Woodchuck with a “price on his head.”  Rabbits began to come about the camp at night, especially when the moon was bright, and frequently of late they had heard a querulous, yelping bark that Caleb said was made by a Fox “probably that old rascal that lives in Callahan’s woods.”

The gray Cat in the log was always interesting.  The boys went very regularly to watch from a distance, but for good reasons did not go near.  First, they did not wish to scare her; second, they knew that if they went too close she would not hesitate to attack them.

One of the important lessons that Yan learned was this.  In the woods the silent watcher sees the most.  The great difficulty in watching was how to pass the time, and the solution was to sit and sketch. Reading would have done had books been at hand, but not so well as sketching, because then the eyes are fixed on the book instead of the woods, and the turning of the white pages is apt to alarm the shy woodfolk.